Woman
by sahdah
Summary: On the eve of battle, Orihime ignites Ulquiorra's cold, white world with crackling life and color. Ulquiorra learns that her weakness is a lie - that woman is dangerous. summary by errihu, be sure to check out their work especially fans of Bleach, Naruto and Warcraft, you won't be disappointed! NSFW content.
1. Woman

**Woman**

The sound of the slap reverberated through the chamber, effectively bringing Ulquiorra's taunts to an abrupt end.

Orihime stared at the pale Espada waiting for a reaction, her heart beating fast in her chest. All her emotions were raw and her breathing troubled…Chad could not possibly be dead. Ulquiorra's words were unforgivable. Everything the number four Espada had done to her thus far, she could understand. Although she did not condone it in the least…however, even though she was now a comrade of the Arrancar, she would not stand aside and let anyone berate her feelings for her friends.

Orihime observed Ulquiorra, as always, he betrayed nothing. The force of her slap served merely to direct his path to the door where he gave her his parting ultimatum. If she had not eaten when he returned after an hour, he would be forcing her meal down her throat. However what his heartless demeanor could not process was that with the emotions going through her, Ulquiorra forcing her food down her throat would be easier than her trying to eat it. Given that her emotions had her so choked up she could not bear the thought of doing something as mundane as eating her meal.

The sound of the large door closing was like a stab to her chest and she wept for her friend. When he returned she would face her consequences bravely.

…

Ulquiorra walked silently down the hall, he could hear the woman's sobs. How strange she was. The side of his face tingled where her warm hand had struck him. If he could comprehend such things he might even be amused. That was not the case here, he merely pondered the response of his skin, the tingling he felt, the warmth of the hand, the emotions that he had provoked to drive her to such an action.

The woman puzzled him, in a fight she would most certainly be out matched by even the weakest female Arrancar, but there was a fierce strength about her. Most often that strength was brought out only in dire circumstances… shaking his head slowly he wondered why he let such trivial ideas even begin to form.

The sound of his footsteps slowed as he approached his chambers, turning the handle and entering the dark room, the door closed behind him. Crossing the room he sat heavily in his chair and faced the only window, unlike the one in Orihime's chambers, this one did not have bars. He stared out at the white sands of Hueco Mundo, as his eyes adjusted from the bright glare of the hall ways, his chamber gradually came into focus illuminated by the light of the pale moon.

Ulquiorra rested his hands on the arms of his chair, feeling a different number of peaked reiatsu's around the palace. Most of them were trash, however one in particular, the one which had spiked momentarily earlier. That was the one that interested him. Kurosaki Ichigo.

Ichigo was the one who had protected…Orihime, when Yammy was on the verge of attacking. Then in the space of one month had gained enough strength to fight against Grimmjow, his reiatsu was a mystery. As he had explained it to Aizen, there were moments that it was below what he considered trash, and it spiked dramatically to the equal of the Arrancar. It seemed to be a very raw and wild sort of power, just now; it was plain that he had gained even more strength. However, what had crawled into his mind was that this was the one person; _she_ had chosen to say good-bye to.

The green eyes narrowed, she had smelled like him, when she finally came to the appointed meeting place, her last night in her world. Why him, of all people? It had not mattered, she had become one with the Arrancar in the end and the uniform did compliment her quite fittingly. The bird had accepted her cage willingly, that was until their group and most in particular, Ichigo, had come to Las Noches, to presumably save her. Inoue Orihime.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, his mind replaying images of her. Images of her long hair, a color which was alien to Hueco Mundo, her eyes, often times that soft color of brown, but at this moment his mind focused on the hard look she had at the moment she had struck him.

There had been a very small number of women in his life, had he wanted the number would be quite large, but he was repulsed by most of the mindless sluts that were part of the Arrancar. Orihime was a strange woman, also the first and only to strike him… and live.

…

Ulquiorra approached the door which swung open as he came closer. Inside the room was still dark as he had left it almost an hour ago. His green eyes scanned the room stopping when they met the burnt red of her hair.

Orihime was sitting in front of her un-eaten meal.

"What's this?" Ulquiorra stared at the girl, she had stopped crying for some time and her hands were folded in her lap, her eyes were closed.

"I wasn't hungry," was her only reply.

"I did not say 'If you are hungry, then eat.'" Repeating himself was not an action Ulquiorra ever did lightly, he loathed it. He crossed the room and stood behind her chair. "I said 'I will tie you down and force it down your throat.'" He paused and watched her shiver involuntarily, and then he spoke quietly. "Was I in any way unclear?"

The question hung between them, Orihime had yet to open her eyes. Defiance to a direct order was not something Ulquiorra tolerated from anyone. He extended his hand gently running his fingers on the back of her neck, feeling the warmth of her soft skin against his cold hand. With a swift flick of his wrist he grabbed a fistful of her long fragrant hair twisting it firmly, bending her head back to look at him. A hiss of a breath escaped her and the place on his face where she struck him felt as if it were humming.

"Eat." His voice was low, a soft and dangerous growl.

Her eyes snapped open and she wore the same hard look she had earlier, in that moment she was the equal to any Arrancar. "No."

The green eyed Espada bent down to her eye level, he was close enough he could see his own face and the perpetual melancholy expression, reflected in her wide eyes. "Do not test me, _onna_."

"I am not hungry." The words were even and she held the steady green gaze.

If she were a Hollow, he found himself wondering as he stared back at her, would her hollow hole be reflected in her pupils? Twin pits of hollow emptiness? His reflection grew in her eyes as he came even closer, almost like her eyes had their own gravitational pull. He did not fight against it.

The grip he had on her hair would have made it impossible for Orihime to try and move away from him, but she held herself still, there was no fight to pull away. It was more of a struggle to not be pulled in closer to the nearly lifeless green eyes, as he drew near the black slits became more pronounced. Her breath felt a little ragged, and she was reminded of the moment when she had been about to kiss Ichigo in his sleep when she went to say good-bye.

The sharp tug on her hair almost caused her to cry out, more out of surprise than pain. Her eyes snapped open unable to avoid Ulquiorra's intense gaze, surprised at the fact that they had closed on their own.

"You were thinking of him, just now." He whispered sounding as close to resigned as his stoical demeanor allowed.

Orihime wanted to say that was not the way she was thinking of Ichigo, it was just that something in the moment had reminded her of that and this time she was not going to let the moment pass. Her hands came up almost of their own volition, on either side of his pale face. For a moment she held her open hands a hair's-breadth away from his face, frozen in indecision.

Ulquiorra's cold eyes stared back at her, unlike him she could not see her reflection, and his eyes were fathomless. In that instant she almost lost her resolve, but her eyes snapped shut as her hands grasped his cold face and her warm lips crushed his.

Very rarely did anything surprise the number four Espada; this had not been a reaction he had even considered. Had he thought of things like this, yes, nothing was off limits to the visions he could have or create. This was not a vision; this was happening now, his free hand moved to her back firmly lifting her light frame off the chair and bringing it tightly against his body. The hand wrapped in her hair roughly pulled her head to the side and he lowered his head into her neck brushing the soft skin, above the white collar, with the side of his face inhaling her scent.

The pulse of her heart was rapidly accelerating and he could feel her body heat rising, it seemed to be a mixed reaction of fear and arousal to her. Clearly she had not expected this outcome, and Ulquiorra could not stop himself. At the moment her lips touched his it became instantly clear to him how much he had wanted this, and there would be no stopping him. Her ragged breathing in his ear, her hand buried in his hair, the hand that had found its way to the front sash on his hakama, lightly fingering the hard muscles it found there, the way her body was moving as he held it tightly to his, was driving him to the edge of madness. This onna, from the moment he had first laid eyes on her, and every moment she had spent in his care, he knew she belonged to him.

The emptiness that was his existence lessened in her presence. It was as if Orihime was life itself. Everything that she lived she lived it so vividly, felt it so raw, pain, joy, sorrow, happiness, these were words he had only ever heard, when he was around her it seemed he almost captured the meaning, but it weighed heavily, close to his own hollow hole. Ulquiorra could not afford to lose himself to a mortal especially to this one.

The movement of her lips on his neck brought him from his self-assessment. Warmth from her breath on his neck made his fire burn all the hotter. At this point their slow backward movement was halted as he had Orihime against far wall of her cell. Tilting her head back against the wall she stared up at him, her face was flushed; he found the color mesmerizing against her normal pale tone. The Espada felt the heat radiating between them where their hips were still touching. He lowered his mouth back to hers crushing the soft lips with a dark intensity that was associated with his Murciélago.

Almost instantly he sensed her reiatsu change to a level he had never felt from her. Her small arms gripped his body and he felt where the skin broke in various places where her nails had dug in. The darkness within him responded in kind and she was forced more violently against the wall, there was no sound of pain this time as before when he had twisted her hair, in the moment he had mistakenly thought she was thinking of Ichigo.

The name, of the substitute Shinigami said out loud in his own mind pushed back his normal apathy. It was Orihime that broke down the empty hollow indifference. His lips parted slightly and hers mimicked his action allowing him to deepen their forceful kiss.

His hands gripped her white uniform and ripped the top off exposing her alabaster skin to the glow of the moonlight. Such beauty hadn't graced the world of his existence in eons. Fingers trailed on the soft skin then roughly cupping the heavy breast he gripped the body closer to his lifting her and carrying her to the bed.

Her head was buried in the side of his neck her scent filling his senses and driving him on. There was a sense that time was flowing faster than he wanted it to, he forced himself to take in every detail.

She scooted up on the bed drawing her knees to her chest.

He shook his head slowly from side to side. She understood and her face flushed pink her lips a few shades darker as she bit her bottom lip her legs falling to the sides in a lotus position her hands folded in her lap.

One had removed his hollow mask and the other undid his jacket. Both items were set deliberately on the couch. He eyed her as he took his time. He was in control of the situation.

Walking around the bed he caressed her face and watched her silently as she took in his appearance. She had released her lip and her mouth was now slightly parted her breathing hesitant as she followed his movements. Reaching out he caressed her face and then gripped her hair yanking her toward him as he observed her breasts heaving.

Kneeling with one leg on the edge of the bed not releasing his hold on her, he moved his lithe body to straddle her pinning body down with his legs. He stretched out her neck his dark desires taking over he backed away to rip off the last items of clothing that separated her from his needs.

In the pale light she emitted an ethereal glow, his fingers started from her toes running up the smooth skin of her shins bemused at the trail of goosebumps his touch left. He could sense the heat emanating from her opening and the scent was mesmerizing his hands paused at her knees as his fingers wrapped around tracing concentric circles on the delicate skin causing the onna to shake in his grip.

The grip became more intense as he slid his cold hands up her supple thighs his breathing was intensifying as his hunger was growing. Forcefully he wrenched her legs open at the moment he buried his mouth into her hot mound her breath escaping her in a sharp hiss and her hands buried into his hair clenching hard as sucked hard on her nub teasing the sensitive skin with his teeth. He penetrated her with his tongue drawing pleasure from her shuddering movements her hips fighting against the strong grip of his hands, the thought of her wrapped around his member nearly undid him but his control was absolute. When she came he kissed her swollen lips a last time and continued the exploration of his prize, he was in no hurry.

Her body was momentarily drained easily remedied with pain. Pinning her hands above her head he took her nipple in his mouth, he pulsed with the sound of her moan but he needed more. Sucking hard he teased the sensitive nub hard with his teeth she was more than aware now she was struggling hard at his restraint, he crushed her mouth with his and she responded in kind tongues intertwining he was tasting her once more and he pulsed hard against her body restrained by his clothing more aware of it since her moisture was seeping into the fabric of his hakama.

In a quick movement he shed the offending clothing and watched her as she crawled across the bed towards him. He stood there, he could have been a marble statue, his body was humming aware of her in all of his senses, her scent, her breathing, fingers tingling at the touch memories, and he stood there immobile watching, red hair cascading over delicate skin.

He watched as she drew her knees under her body and betrayed no movement when her hands gripped his hips, the difference in their temperatures intensified it almost felt like coals on his skin but that didn't prepare him for the scorching touch of her tongue licking his tip then taking him into her mouth only she found out as her eyes widened to meet his catlike pupils that she could not accommodate him entirely. His eyebrow raised infinitesimally the most emotion he had betrayed thus far physically his breathing was betraying him, of course he didn't need to breath but with that sense he breathed her in. Both of his hands entwined with her silky hair moving as she slid her mouth on his shaft, she had moved her hands to aid with what she could not accommodate as he felt a small stirring within his hollow hole.

He could no longer wait he wrenched her up from the bed wrapping his arms around her small frame crushing her body against his as he moved her back on the bed he positioned himself at her swollen entrance.

Her eyes were locked onto his and he watched her with satisfaction as he opened her for the very first time what was that small barrier of resistance against his will. The moan that escaped her was a drug to him, her legs wrapped around him tightly as he thrust his hips in and out.

A flash of bright light infiltrated Ulquiorra's observation causing him to pause.

Orihime pulled him in closer with her hands on his hips, kissing his lips questioningly watching him as he blinked and stared at her.

The light was part of the artificial day light. There was a binding sensation that over took him. Orihime's figure shimmered before his eyes. He broke free of the bind and gripped her body tighter to his, savoring the flavor of her skin.

He was wrenched from his prize… _His arms thrust the trident through her tiny body the dark hair falling in her face, the violet eyes losing their lights. He was going to taunt her until her dying moment…._

…Orihime's body was becoming was becoming lighter in his arms, fading like a wisp of smoke, or a half remembered memory…

… _"Have you remembered how to pretend to fight with a broken sword?"_ …

…Ulquiorra grasped Orihime's face with the most gentle touch, looked into her eyes once more…

… _The white sword impaled her through her head and she vanished from his arms…_

…

Ulquiorra blinked and opened his eyes to the moon light streaming into his chambers once more. This meant that the last few minutes had been Aaroniero Arruruerie's Broadcasted Sight, which meant that the number nine Espada had been killed by Kuchiki Rukia, she herself now severely wounded.

The number four Espada stood up gasping. This time the vision had been much more powerful. It was obvious now he had gone into a much more relaxed state of mind that he normally allowed himself. His whole body tingled; it was dangerous allowing such thoughts to overwhelm his senses. This was the time he would welcome any sort of distraction.

He felt the peaked reiatsu of the one who he could vent his emptiness upon, Ichigo was once again on the move. Ulquiorra left his chambers; he needed to put distance between himself and that onna.


	2. Man

**Man**

There is a soft rustle nearby, her eyes open immediately and she suppresses the gasp on her lips.

Vivid green eyes stare at her in the semi darkness of the moonlit chamber. He is here.

Orihime tries to get a grasp on her heart, he never comes to her chambers after dinner, and never while she is asleep. Her body is vibrating with the proximity of the number four Espada. "Ulquiorra." The sound, a whisper in the darkness.

Their earlier conversation plays in her ears, 'I will tie you down and force it down your throat.' Why? Clearly she annoys him, she is used to it. She is who she is, and he is here. Why?

"Onna." His voice is low, a growl.

She has been waiting for him, and his address is all the invitation she needs. She sits up, moving to the edge of her bed tucking her knees below her. He has straightened, but doesn't move from his position. Something in his face suggests he isn't quite sure why he has come.

Orihime raises herself, kneeling before him. His green eyes piercing her, he won't leave, but she doesn't yet have permission to touch. Her hands shake as she undoes the clasp of her garment slowly, she will not break eye contact, not this time.

Instinct and experience guide her, he is staring at her intently. When the garment falls to the bed in a soft rustle of material his eyes narrow. She follows his sight as he takes her in, naked from the waist up, the intense look making heat coil low in her belly. She has his attention.

Sinking to the bed, she swings her legs off the side, standing up- inches from his body. The room is cold but there is heat radiating from her, from him. He hasn't stopped her. And yet, his breathing isn't as steady as it had been.

Orihime stands there waiting.

"Continue." His eyes are on her once more.

Undoing the tie to her skirt, she slowly shimmies the material off of her hips until it lands pooled around her feet on the floor. Long orange hair is the only thing marginally protecting her modesty.

And finally, finally he moves.

Anticipates the touch, as she watches his pale hand, slender deadly fingers brush the long strands revealing her body, for him and him alone. He brushes his nose up her neck. Her heart pulses loudly in her ears, so she almost doesn't hear it. Until he bites her earlobe and she whimpers from the pleasure, _exquisite._ Her body is vibrating at his proximity, slick with anticipation, but she will not rush this.

The coolness of his touch makes her skin tingle with goosebump. Her eyes have closed so she focuses completely on the touch of his mouth, moist and hot to her fevered skin as he explores her neck. Sucking. Licking. Biting. She isn't in control of the gasps that escape her. Each one causes him to growl, his hands on her body are the only things keeping her upright.

She is reducing to mewing whimper when he rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Ul-Ulquiorra."

He repeats the action, and she clamps down on her lip certain she's most likely angered him.

"Say it." He grouses, into her neck.

"Hnn." She cannot speak.

"Again, onna." His other hand is at her throat tilting her head away to give him better access to his prize, thumb pressing under her jaw, fingers extended across her throat. She feels his power.

"Ulquiorra." She grounds out. "Haa-aaah." He is pleased.

He pulls away from her, finally releasing her nipple only to cup her face. Melancholic expression searching hers. Eyes settling on her slightly gaping mouth. How is he so composed? He is predator, she- his prey…

Her eyes flit from his eyes to his lips, instinct and experience drive her now. Her small hands hold his hips and she brings her body to his, reaching her mouth to his. Warm mouth crushing cool lips.

If he is surprised, he doesn't let on. His own desire cracking his control and their tongues meet, lips moving together. A hardness in his hakama that betrays his composed exterior just as his tongue had. And when she pulls away, breathless, she can tell he's cracked a little.

The distance doesn't last more than a moment, it's painful with him- it's even more painful away from him. Her fingers are on the clasps of his coat, he watches as her hands slip under the surface. When she reaches his shoulders, she fluidly works the jacket up and over her hands. It joins her skirt on the floor.

Orihime bites her lip as she runs her fingers across the taut skin of his torso. Feeling the muscles below her fingertips. Working her way to his chest, she fingers his tattoo. The gothic four, symbol of his rank among the Arrancar. After a pause, she begins to kiss the skin around his hollow hole- certain he is going to stop her, surprised when he doesn't- allowing her to continue.

A twitch from his pants against her leg brings awareness of her body's need to the forefront of her thoughts. Her hands are at the sash of his white pants. He gives her a look, which is almost a physical push, and she sits on the edge of the bed, light brown eyes locked with emerald green.

He removes his boots, moving to stand before her, much like she had done moments before. He allows her to undo the sash of his pants. She carefully works the material over his, sharply defined, hip bones. And then he's free, erect before her and her mouth parts as she takes him in, living marble statue.

Her tongue swipes at the precum beading from his tip, and she holds his hips in her hands. Desire to taste the rest of him overtakes her and her mouth envelops his hot tip. Hands fist in her hair, and he holds her immobile, almost.

She swirls her tongue around his head flicking the base, gratified when he growls out, "Onna." She is not frightened. He has never frightened her. She wants more. Her hands grip his hips more firmly pulling him further into her mouth.

The grip on her hair tightens and he firmly pulls her away. She doesn't understand. Had she done something wrong? His gaze is dark, when she finally meets it, eyes unreadable- her heart is hammering. She wants. _Fuck,_ she wants, the word- it's meaning now crystal clear in her mind.

"You're going to be the death of me, onna." His voice, cuts her.

She cannot move, she is his, he crushes her mouth with his. His body overwhelming hers. He is too far away. Desire gives her strength and she pulls him to her. She wants, needs, to taste again. So she bites his lip, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her jailor. Wastes no time as she wraps her mouth around his length once more. The taste of his precum, tangy on her tongue.

His hands fist in her hair once more and she stops her mouth. Withdrawing until he is resting against her lips, and she raises her eyes slowly to meet his gaze. A memory fills her thoughts: "What is the heart?" She blocks it from her mind.

Ulquiorra narrows his gaze, "Are you thinking of _him?_ "

Shakes her head from side to side, no. He, the hollow before her is the only being that fills her thoughts. Dark and light.

"Good."

His gaze is hard, his hands firm. She is made to lie back. "Are you afraid?"

"No." Her voice is strong, "you do not frighten me." She says.

Orihime watches him use his sheathed zanpakuto to raise the black sash to his hand. Continues to watch him until he obstructs her vision, by wrapping the garments over her eyes. He is so quiet, her other senses strain to find him. The taste of him still on her lips, her legs rub together, and she becomes aware of a tangy smell in the air. Realizes it's her own arousal, because of him, and she can't find it in herself to feel embarrassed. This is his doing.

The coldness of his hands on her body, give her proprioception grounding her to his touch. His hand is pressed at the apex of her thigh, and her body hums. He's so close to where she desires him to be, his thumb lightly touching her hair, and then he is gone. "Ahh."

He isn't gone for long. Hands fist in the white silk of her bed when he grips her knees and runs his hands up her thighs slowly forcing her legs apart. Heart hammering, gasping when his mouth presses to her slit.

A growl renders her speechless as his tongue flicks at her clit. Strong hands pushing her legs up, her toes now curling over the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to buck her hips, and squeeze her thighs. A sharp pain in her right thigh where his helm brushes against her soft skin.

Momentarily he is gone, and when he returns the helm is gone. His ministrations causing her to fist her hands in the sheets, once more. "Ulquiorra." She breaths out. "I want- want to watch." WIth a confidence she isn't sure she has.

He pauses. "Have I tied your hands?"

Orihime props herself on her elbows the material falling from her eyes coming to rest on her breasts. A question in his eyes: "Where is the 'heart'?"

He is fingering her opening, his eyes watching hers carefully as he pushes inside causing her to inhale sharply through her nose, it feels- feels so intense. She needs more. He works her slowly, and she again fights the urge to buck her hips. The need to dissolve into matter, nothingness, emptiness in his presence. It overwhelms her.

"Ah- ahh." The tides are rising, he must either sense her growing need or she has gasped it aloud, but she does keen when he adds another finger curling in her working her bundle of nerves. She can't look away, she is falling into oblivion. His emptiness a hollow pit that threatens to swallows her body and soul. He adds yet another finger to his steadily calculated rhythm, that has her meeting him every fourth thrust, he has her climbing- climbing. Until, until she reaches her own precipice, only to fall over the edge lost in green, body clenching him inside her, claiming him as her own.

And, as good as it is, it is still not enough.

It hits her again, 'If I tear open that chest of yours, will I see it there?' As clear as if he's spoken it to her.

"Yes," she breathes. Body tingling.

"Yes, what? _Onna._ " His breathing is only slightly labored and she wonders what it'll take to make him see her as she sees him.

Her heart is screaming for him. A blast of red obscures her vision, and she hugs her arms to her chest, nails digging into her skin grounding her to reality.

The bed dips below his weight, and a pale hand caresses her cheek, her eyes open to meet his expressionless stare. He knows not concern.

"Onna?"

She can't not whisper the words. "If you tear open my chest."

"I assure you, I have no desire to do such a thing." The tone is terse, clipped.

"If you smash open my skull…" she continues.

He is looking at her though his outstretched hand. "I have no need of such a thing. I see it. Here within my reach." The words are hard.

Orihime reaches for his hand with her own outstretched fingers, panic threatening to overwhelm her until she makes contact and grips it as if her life depends on it. Pulling him to her, mouth's meeting, his own intense need present as she breaks through the emptiness. This is the moment she has been given.

His arms cage her beneath his body, smooth marble warmed by her fire. The length of him pressed between their bodies until she moves from beneath him, tilting her hips so that he slides down her folds and comes to rest pressing hard at her opening. Her breathing shallow.

"...Do I frighten you?"

The scleras of his eyes have turned dark green, the iris's an intense yellow, the pupils slit wide. His visage would frighten even the most hardened warriors.

For her answer, she reaches up cupping his face bringing his mouth to hers, searching his gaze. "Do I frighten you, Ulquiorra?"

' _Where is the 'heart'?_

 _If I tear open that chest of yours, will I see it there?_

 _If I smash open that skull of yours, will I see it there?'_

"Yes," he says as he pushes into her, the same force applied to his fingertips extracts the hearts of his enemies, and it does the same to his. His teal eye streaks widening to black, black flowing from his hollow hole, horns growing from his head. Orihime glows in his arms, and he is frightened by her power.

Instinct takes over, but he does not know how to fight this, he is locked in her sight. She will not release him, he no longer has the strength to fight her. He is lost within her.

Their hands are intertwined, there is pain, not the pain that comes from battles, perhaps the pain of the aftermath. Neither one will release the other. He watches her every micro expression, there is torment, there is pleasure, and there is something else-that which he cannot identify. It is what frightens him.

He has lost his control, in the fear, he is frantic in his desire to possess her, she does not hold back meeting him. His breathing ragged. Her keening gasps driving him closer to a black oblivion. His name on her lips, a benediction, a curse. Fear grips his hollows hole that this- this, will remain forever unsettled

And she is taking him over the edge, he is nothing. He is the darkness. He is emptiness.

She has destroyed him, he is spent, spilling into her. Possessing her in the most base way nature could allow. She is all around him. And yet. The fear grows.

Orihime is sobbing.

" _Do I frighten you, onna."_

Her heart is breaking.

He is but a small distance from her outstretched fingers. Ashes from his beautiful wings, being blown away on the cold winds of Hueco Mundo.

She cannot reach him.

His fingers are stretched out to her, she lunges forward to grasp at him. It will be okay if she can just- just hold on. Her fingers close on nothingness. He dissolves in front of her very eyes.

Small hands are crushed to her chest, she cannot breathe. She is heaving. Her heart cannot handle this.

A large warm hand rests on her shoulder.

Air, she's gasping for air. She cannot breathe. _Don't say it. Don't say it._ THe thought is desperate.

"O-orihime?" The voice is low, warm- wrong.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She screams.

It is too much. He recoils, he understands.

Her power has always been drawing out the human from the inhumane.

Ichigo never knew to what extent, but every year the nightmares become worse. He did this to her. If he could have saved her sooner… had he been stronger.

He doesn't know.

Orihime, listened. She listened when Ichigo told him that Rukia chose Renji over him. How could she not? The echo of a love she had felt for him remained steady enough that after the 1,000 year war, they relied on one another. Perhaps, more than they should have.

She never told him though.

He haunts her dreams most nights. It is easy to play it off as a nightmare, it is, in reality. A nightmare she cannot escape from.

Loneliness and shared pain, brought them together, and years after she thought he would never return her feelings- Ichigo did. Why? Why, couldn't they have gone on being platonic partners. Partners who stayed close, his heartache when Renji delivered the news of their child must have spurned him to move on. She should have been honest then. She wasn't.

Even Ishida confronted her, but never Ichigo.

She rarely feels desire. But, the loneliness becomes unbearable on the day.

And that was how they first slept together. The pain was worse in the aftermath of their coupling. And since then, the nightmares have become so vivid. So, unbearably, vivid.

She feels his ashes slip through her fingers.

Sees him disappear from her outstretched hand.

Hears his words over, and over.

Ichigo, doesn't ask.

Orihime, doesn't tell him.

She hopes, hopes the child growing in her womb will change the pain- lessen it somehow. But, she doesn't know how it could.

Her heart is slowing down, she looks at her chest where she's marked up her sternum again. Balls her hands over the spot, and stares.

Stares out of her window, which faces the pale waning crescent moon.


End file.
